Anomaly
by 1729
Summary: Harry has a twin. When Voldemort hits Harry with the curse, strange things happen to Harry's magic, changing the magical world forever. Will start with Harry's childhood, diverges quickly. AU
1. Chapter 1

Due to chance, random variation, or perhaps fate, Lily and James Potter had twins. They named the twins Harry and Arnold.

On a fateful night in Late October, Lily and James were putting the twins to sleep. They were hiding in Godric's Hollow on Dumbledore's orders for reasons unknown. It must have been important, because Dumbledore insisted on the Fidelius - James also had to admit that the plan with the switched secret-keepers was brilliant. And yet he couldn't shake off the feeling that something terrible was about to happen. James tried to take his mind off the war, and a contented smile arose on his face as he watched his 1-year-old twins. The strange thing was that they looked so different - Arnold looked just like James (something James was very proud of), but Harry had much more delicate features, and had inherited Lily's green eyes. Something to do with magic? James wasn't sure and didn't really care. If he could get through the war without anybody close to him dying, he would be happy enough. Allowing his mind to stray to the twins again, he thought about the test results he had gotten from the mediwitch the other day. Apparently both Arnold and Harry were going to be strong wizards. All in all it had been a quiet, slightly stressful six months - which was about to change.

With a resounding crack, Lord Voldemort apparated into the Potter's front yard. Lily screamed.

"We have to get out of here. He's found us!"

James whirled around and made for the door.

"Peter, that fucking bastard. Take the twins and go!"

"James, I can't apparate! There's got to be some kind of anti-apparition ward on the grounds. I'll try to disable it!"

The front door suddenly shivered, and then was blasted open, throwing chunks of wood into the living room.

Lord Voldemort strode in, eyeing the defiant James Potter with an amused smirk.

"Potter, lay down your wand if you want to live."

Silently praying that Lily would find a way out of the house, James kept his wand trained on Voldemort's face.

"Hell no, you evil creature. What do you want from me?"

"I am a simple man, Potter. Give me your sons, and I will leave you unharmed."

"My sons are MY sons, you asshole."

Lord Voldemort sighed.

"Avada Kedavra."

Lord Voldemort strode over James Potter's body, following the faint trace of what had to be Lily Potter's magic. The trail ended at a locked door. He blasted it open.

Lily Potter fired the most powerful spell that she knew.

"Avante Cielocos!"

A bright white beam of light flew out of Lily's wand straight toward Voldemort, but the Dark Lord was just too skilled a duelist.

"Protego Maxima!"

A translucent black shield surrounded Voldemort, deflecting Lily's spell into the ground, where it fizzled and disappeared.

"I grow tired of these games, Lily Potter. Give me the twins, or die."

"Never!"

"So be it. Avada Kedavra!"

Harry Potter awoke to the destruction of his bedroom door, and silently and in terror saw his mother die. He watched as the snaked-eyed man raised his wand and sent a beam of sickly green light racing towards him. Then everything seemed to slow down, and as the green light came within a foot of Harry's face, the magic in the room erupted.

The blood ward that lay dormant in Harry's body flared to life, and for a moment the green light struggled to penetrate the barrier that had suddenly arose. Lily created the blood ward for this exact purpose - to protect her sons should she die at the hand of some evil wizard. As the green light and the barrier fought each other, it seemed for a second that this ultimate protection would hold. But in the end, the killing curse sliced through the blood ward and struck Harry right in the center of his forehead.

Once inside Harry, the curse made a beeline for Harry's magical core, seeking to sever Harry's soul from his magic and kill him as it had done to countless other wizards. But this time, something impeded its progress. Whereas usually the killing curse encountered no resistance from the core of the person it was about to kill, Harry's core, engorged from the blood ward magic as well as from his own fright, intercepted the curse just before it would have reached his soul. And then something happened that had not occurred for several millennia - the curse hit the core, and both shattered.

One-year-old Harry had no clue about the battle raging inside of him, but he did feel a blinding, sudden pain in his head, and before he lost consciousness he saw the most incredible thing: a wave of magic, in reality Harry's shattered core, spread out from Harry's body and flattened everything in the room. Lord Voldemort's body was utterly vaporized, the house was turned into dust, and Arnold Potter's body was scarred in several places from the magical energy. Arnold, who had just woken from the commotion, started crying when he noticed that his mother and brother were lying on the ground, motionless. And that was the scene that Severus Snape encountered as he stepped into the demolished bedroom.

When Severus Snape saw Lily's body, he broke. His Occlumency shields, strong enough to resist even Voldemort's mental intrusions, crumbled from the emotions that were swirling inside him. There was nothing, simply nothing, that he could do that would bring back the life of the one person who had ever cared about him. But ever the practical man, Snape realized that he could not stay long, as this place was about to become the center of attention for the wizarding world for many days to come. Before he left, though, Snape's previously ambiguous loyalties were resolved - he vowed to never again go back to Voldemort's clutches, and should the son-of-a-bitch somehow come back to life, he would fight with everything he had to destroy him once and for all.

Soon after Snape left Godric's Hollow, contingents from the Ministry and from Hogwarts arrived. Albus Dumbledore, Minvera McGonagall, Kingsley Shacklebolt, a whole division of aurors, as well as the Minister of Magic descended upon the Potter's destroyed house. Dumbledore was the first one to the scene, and he quickly performed some inspections, coming to several conclusions. He immediately realized that Voldemort wasn't dead, and filed away that information for later. But the next realization Dumbledore had, although seemingly obvious, was untrue. He decided that Arnold Potter, scarred as he was, must have been the one to have somehow deflected Voldemort's killing curse. Dumbledore also noticed something strange about Harry Potter - the boy had no magic in him! Had the Potters secretly given birth to a Squib, and hidden the information from him? Yes, Dumbledore thought; that was the only explanation - Arnold Potter miraculously blocked a supposedly unblockable curse, and Harry Potter was actually a Squib. He was brought out of his reverie by McGonagall.

"Albus, what should we do? You-know-who is dead, Lily and James are dead, and…"

"I propose that we split the twins up," said Albus.

"Arnold Potter has performed a feat of magic that deserves the highest Order of Merlin that exists. He is undoubtedly going to grow up to be an extremely powerful wizard, and thus I propose we send him to a wizarding family that will nurture him into the wizard he is destined to be. Any suggestions for what family young Arnold should go to?"

Molly Weasley's hand shot up.

"Albus, we would love to have the boy. We'd raise him as our own, and he would have several boys his own age to grow up with."

Minerva butted in.

"Albus, shouldn't we at least check the Potters' will?"

"Minerva, we both know that Lily and James would have wanted Sirius Black, and then the Longbottoms to take care of their children. As Sirius has just murdered over twenty Muggles and the Longbottom's have been incapacitated, I believe that the Weasleys are an excellent choice."

Another member of the Order of the Phoenix piped up.

"Also, if we don't decide this now, the Malfoys and the dark families will no doubt petition to host Arnold Potter as well. We must do this quickly, before they have time to react."

The Minister of Magic, anxious to have this entire situation over with and celebrate the end of the war, put a quick end to things.

"Then it is decided. Arnold Potter will go to the Weasleys. What about the other one?"

Albus's face became solemn.

"My friends, there is one more piece of sad news that I must share with you tonight. Harry Potter is a Squib. Not only is he a Squib, I do not sense any magic in him whatsoever. For all practical purposes, Harry is a Muggle."

Gasps arose from those present.

"We can't have a Squib growing up in our house, Albus, and I'm sure you can understand why."

"Yes, yes, Molly - I agree that Harry should go somewhere else. Into the Muggle World, perhaps? I know that Lily's Muggle sister would be willing to take Harry on."

"Yes, Dumbledore, I concur," said the Minister of Magic. "Squibs have no place in our world. Harry Potter will be brought to Lily Potter's sister, and he will live as a Muggle, without knowledge of the wizarding world. It is unfortunate, but sacrifices must be made for the greater good. Our business is done here. Let the Weasley's take Arnold Potter as their own, and someone bring Harry Potter to Lily's sister. Remember this day, everyone - the war is finally over. A toast to Arnold Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived!"

With that, everyone slowly dispersed, excited to tell their families and towns about how Voldemort had finally been defeated, and by a boy, no less. By the end of the week, Arnold Potter's name was known throughout wizarding Europe, and he had already begun his life with the Weasleys. Minerva took Harry Potter to the Dursleys, whispered a sad good-bye, and set Harry on course for his new Muggle life.


	2. Chapter 2

When Vernon Dursley opened his door to get the mail, he was surprised by the strange bundle on his doorstep. He definitely hadn't ordered anything that size, so at first Vernon thought maybe the bundle was a gift of some sort. But when he went to remove the cloth covers from the bundle, the thing started wiggling and let out a loud yelp.

Hastily retracting his hand, Vernon ran back inside.

"Petunia! Get down here! What in the blazes is this?"

Upstairs, Petunia Dursley wondered what Vernon was on to about now - Vernon was generally a simple man, and as long as she hadn't screwed up his bacon or committed some other infraction of that sort he was usually happy. However, as soon as she saw the mysterious package, Petunia felt her stomach drop. No, Petunia thought, this was not something that could be fixed easily. In fact, this situation was precisely what she had been trying to avoid for the last decade and a half. Of course Lily would find a way to mess her plans up. Lily always messed things up.

"Vernon, I think that's a baby."

"Well no shit that's a baby. What is it doing here? Did the adoption agency mess up their address or something?"

Here we go, Petunia thought.

"Vernon, remember what I told you about my sister? About how she was a freak and always got into trouble?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I think that baby has something to do with her."

"What is that supposed to mean? 'Something' to do with your freak of a sister? I want it out of here! Out! Do you hear me?"

"Yes, yes, Vernon, but don't you think we should at least figure out who to send it back to? And look, there's a note sticking out from under the cloth."

Petunia bent down and ripped the envelope open.

"Dear Mr. and Mrs. Dursley," began Petunia. "I regret to inform you that last night, Lily and James Potter were murdered by evil forces under the command of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Since you are Lily's sister, I thought it proper that you should be given guardianship over her son. Arrangements have been made with the proper authorities, and your family will be given a sizable stipend to ensure Harry Potter's well-being. I understand that this is all very sudden, but for magical reasons your house is by far the safest place for Harry, and there he will be safe from anyone that tries to hurt him. My deepest condolences, the Minister of Magic."

At this point, Vernon's face had turned a remarkable shade of red.

"Are these people serious, Petunia? Who are they to force us to raise one of them? To hell with this stupid 'minister', lets just dump this brat somewhere and forget about all this."

"Please, Vernon - you don't understand! We have to do as these people say. I've seen firsthand how powerful they are - my sister was one of them!"

"Oh, so because your sister was a freak, you want one in our house too? Have you forgotten what we decided before we got married? No freaks allowed. Period. And what about Dudley? I don't want him to deal with this boy's freakishness. I'll be damned if I let any 'wizard' put his hand on our son."

"Fine. How about this. We carefully monitor the boy. If he shows any signs of freakishness whatsoever, we kick him out. If he turns out to be normal, we keep him."

"Fine. But I'm warning you now, Petunia - I'll have no part in this. We'll keep him alive, but beyond that I won't provide for schooling, clothes, anything. The boy is a burden placed on us, and I will not sacrifice my time and energy on his behalf."

"Agreed - Dudders will always come before him."

"Ok, just throw him in the cupboard under stairs for now. I have to get to work. Is my breakfast ready?"

And so Harry Potter began his life as a member of the Dursley family. He lived in the cupboard under the stairs, came out to be fed and cleaned, and then went back into the cupboard. His access to the outside world was restricted to an hour each day, when the Dursley's would go to the park and Harry would be given free reign over the front yard, under the stipulation that if he broke anything, he would have to fix it. Vernon secretly hoped that the boy would run off one day, but Harry was too young and obedient to ever consider that course of action. It was remarkable that even with Harry's lack of contact with the world, he was able to keep pace with regular children - Harry learned how to walk and talk around the same time as Dudley, and with much less instruction. Of course, there was one gaping hole in Harry's life that could not be fixed, which was that he had no magic inside him. Harry was too young to appreciate this problem, but he had vague recollections of his parents, and he always wondered why his new home didn't have any floating lights or self-moving parts.

Four Years Later

Each week, Harry looked forward to Sundays the most. This is because Vernon and Petunia would take Dudley downtown to go shopping, leaving Harry at home. Harry took this time to explore, going through the house looking for something interesting. Usually he would go to Dudley's room because it was chock full of stuff. Dudley's room was about twenty times as large as his cupboard and also didn't have spiders crawling around. Harry wondered why this was the case - why did Dudley get all of this? Harry didn't particularly mind all the toys that Dudley had, realizing that most of them were glorified pieces of plastic. But the books... Harry would give anything to have Dudley's books, but he knew that if Dudley realized he had stolen something, there would be hell to pay. Harry's solution was to read the books in Dudley's room, and then put them back before the Dursley's returned. This particular Sunday, Harry was trying to read a particularly difficult book: _King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table_. Unlike the Dudley's other books, this one had an advanced vocabulary. Harry got the gist of it though. King Arthur was this great warrior who won a special sword, who then worked with Merlin to make a super team of knights.

Like many children his age, Harry wished that he could be one of the people in King Arthur's world. However, most kids fantasized about being King Arthur riding around with Excalibur, or the noble Lancelot who was more skilled than all the knights in the land, or the great Gawain, etc. Harry didn't particularly care about the knights. He respected their skill, but he was most captivated by Merlin. Harry wished that he could be like Merlin, casting spells to move rocks across oceans and make lighting rain down from the sky. Being a 4-year-old, Harry was naive enough to try to cast the lightning spell himself. The spell didn't work. No lighting came down from the sky that Sunday.

Of course, Harry was disappointed, but that afternoon he kept reading his book and trying out Merlin's spells. He wondered if he was setting the bar too high for himself - maybe he could do one of the easier spells? One of Merlin's easier spells had the affect of summoning an object to oneself. Harry cleared his throat and said "Summon pencil!", intending to summon the pencil sitting on Dudley's desk. The pencil didn't budge. He tried this several more times, varying the intonation of "Summon" and the object he was trying to summon. Nothing changed. Frustrated, Harry stopped saying the incantation, locked his eyes on the pencil, and simply tried to will the pencil into his hand. When the pencil still didn't move, Harry frowned and tried to will harder. Still nothing. At this point, Harry began to realize how stupid this was. Who did he think he was, trying to move stuff with his mind? Some Jedi out of a Star Wars movie? Magic didn't exist - everyone knew that. Even so, Harry gave it one more shot. This time, he put in everything he had - all the mental energy he could muster, and stared at the pencil with laser-sharp focus. Harry stared for several seconds, and just when he was about to lose concentration, he felt an extremely painful sensation in his head and fell unconscious.

When Harry came to, it took him a moment to realize that he was still in Dudley's bedroom and that he had only been out for a few minutes. His head hurt like it had been hit with a baseball bat, but otherwise Harry didn't feel too bad. Then Harry thought about what just happened, and he almost passed out again in confusion. What the hell had just happened? The pencil hadn't moved at all, but Harry's ringing head suggested otherwise. Harry's first question was whether or not he had actually attempted magic. He was sure that he had attempted something, but what? Was it magic in the way of Merlin, or did he just give himself a terrible headache from thinking too hard? Harry was leaning toward the latter explanation, but then he considered all the other headaches he experienced. Sometimes when Petunia didn't give him enough food Harry would also get terrible headaches, but this one felt different. For one, Harry's regular headaches felt more normal, in the sense that Harry could pinpoint where they were coming from and why they happened. This headache was more intense than the hunger-headaches, and it felt like it originated from somewhere deep inside him, somewhere not physical. Harry then realized that the only way to test this theory would be to try and induce another headache, which he really didn't want to do.

Harry put _King Arthur_ away, erased the evidence that he had come into Dudley's room, and went downstairs. Was there anything else in the house that could help him figure this out? Well, Harry thought, there might be, but going into Vernon and Petunia's bedroom was risky. The two of them were considerably more observant than Dudley, and if they noticed their stuff moved around, Harry would be in deep trouble. On the other hand, they weren't supposed to be back for another few hours, and Harry could be very careful. He decided to go for it.

Harry had only been inside the master bedroom a few times in his life, usually to serve breakfast to Petunia. The few times he had been in Vernon and Petunia shooed him out quickly, so Harry wasn't sure what was in the room. Careful not to disturb too much, Harry made his way over to the bureau and started looking for anything interesting. After a ten minute search, he concluded that Vernon and Petunia were pretty dull people. All they had in the bureau were a bunch of clothes and some tabloid magazines. Disappointed, Harry checked the closet next. More of the same: clothes, belts, and coat hangers. There were also a bunch of nondescript boxes under the clothes. Opening the lid of one of the boxes, Harry saw a bunch of CDs and cassettes from the 1980s, and he realized that they were probably either Vernon's or Petunia's old belongings. This stuff was unlikely to help him with his problem, but Harry still had a few hours with nothing to do, so it wouldn't hurt to check.

After a tedious search, Harry stumbled upon a little red box wrapped in pink lace - this had to belong to Petunia. Inside were small scraps of paper with notes addressed to someone named Lily and someone else named Sev. Harry couldn't understand what most of the notes said, but he did notice that many of the notes mentioned something about going shopping in a "Diagon Alley", which was supposedly in London. Maybe that was where the Dursley's went off to each Sunday! In the notes that Petunia sent, especially to Sev, the word "freak" was tossed around a lot. This was surprising to Harry because Petunia sometimes called him a freak too. Harry never game much thought as to why Petunia called him a freak, because he usually was too busy staying out of trouble with Vernon. But come to think of it, Harry had never heard of anyone else falling unconscious and getting a strange headache from trying to summon a pencil. So it could be that Petunia knew that Harry could get these headaches, and only now was Harry finding out for himself. And if so, Harry thought, maybe Diagon Alley is actually a freak shopping center, and maybe they can tell me why I got my headache!

At this point it was late afternoon, and Harry started putting everything back in order before the Dursley's arrived. His head was still spinning from what had happened earlier - first the extremely painful headache, and then the mention of a "Diagon Alley". There was also the business with Lily and Sev, people who Petunia used to write notes to. Should he ask Petunia who Lily and Sev were? Best not to, lest Petunia get suspicious. There wasn't much Harry could do then unless he could figure out a way to Diagon Alley. Seeing that he rarely got to leave the house at all, going to downtown London seemed rather impractical. Except - maybe next Sunday Harry could go downtown with the Dursleys? Harry had never asked the Dursley's before, because it seemed obvious that only Dudley had the privilege. But perhaps... yes, there was a small chance that Harry could sweet-talk Vernon into letting him go, but it was a chance nonetheless.


	3. Chapter 3

Later that Sunday the Dursleys returned.

"Boy! Get over here and help with the bags!"

Harry sighed.

"Yes Uncle Vernon! I'll be right out!"

Ignoring Vernon's glares, Harry dutifully moved things into the living room.

"So, boy. What have you been up to today? Better not have poked your nose anywhere, ay?"

"No, I did what I usually do."

"Good."

Seeing that this was probably Vernon's best mood, Harry decided to go for it.

"Uncle, I have a question."

"What is it, boy?"

"Where do you guys go every Sunday?"

"Why do you care?"

Harry needed to come up with a good excuse.

"Well, I noticed that the fireplace and the oven are kind of dirty. I was wondering if I could come along and buy some cleaning things. I promise I won't be any trouble!"

Vernon thought about it.

"Petunia, what do you think? Should we let the boy come?"

Petunia shrugged.

"Well, the fireplace does need to be cleaned. And he's smaller than both of us, so it'll be easier for him."

Vernon turned back to Harry.

"Boy, I guess you're in luck. You can come with us. But if you even put a single toe out of line, there'll be hell to pay. Got it?"

"Yes Uncle, I'll be on my best behavior."

"Good - now go set the table for dinner."

After dinner, Harry retreated to his cupboard and started thinking. In order to find and explore Diagon Alley, Harry would have to get away from the Dursleys. That seemed extremely difficult. Was there some way to take the Dursleys with him? Was there some way to convince Vernon and Petunia to go to Diagon Alley? Even more unlikely: Petunia's notes indicated that she hated the place, so if Harry mentioned it Petunia was liable to rage. Vernon alone? No, he would end up telling Petunia, and then Harry would be in trouble. What to do, what to do...

Later that night, Harry finally concluded that there was no good way to find Diagon Alley without pissing off the Dursleys. He was now thinking about how much punishment he was willing to tolerate to find Diagon Alley - the Dursleys would punish him, there was no doubt about that. On the other hand, Harry wanted his questions about what happened earlier in the day answered. Did he want them answered badly enough?

At this point, Harry started crying. The constant misery, lack of food, and now all this crazy shit had finally caught up to him. The biggest thing was that Harry didn't understand why the Dursleys treated him like this. As far as Harry was concerned, he was a much nicer boy than Dudley - he did more chores, he ate less food, and he didn't have regular tantrums. So why didn't the Dursleys like him? It just wasn't fair. And Harry wasn't sure it would ever end. Vernon had mentioned earlier that month that Dudley would start school in August, pointedly not telling Harry what his fate would be. What if Vernon kept Harry locked up in the cupboard forever? Could he stand being here for the rest of his life?

It wasn't that Harry never thought about this stuff. He thought about the future often, but for some reason this time the hopelessness hit him especially hard. Harry always had fantasies about running away, but he was too small and too scared to ever try something like that. But for some reason, Harry felt that if he didn't try something soon, he would run out of time.

 **7 Days Later**

Harry made sure to wake up before the Dursleys and get ready. He put on his most presentable clothes (it wasn't much, but at least they weren't coming apart at the seams) and scrounged around the cupboard for some pen and paper. He also slipped a bar of chocolate into his pants in case he got hungry and the Dursleys couldn't, or wouldn't feed him. Afterwards, he decided to go get some breakfast ready for the Dursleys, hoping to get them in a good mood. About half an hour later, Vernon and Petunia stumbled into the kitchen.

"I'm glad to see that we've finally gotten some sense into you, boy! Keep this up and you might have a chance of not becoming a delinquent."

"Yes Uncle - I wanted to help get breakfast ready because we have a long day today."

"Well get on with it then, we're hungry."

Harry continued frying the bacon while Vernon and Petunia grumbled and watched the telly. Eventually Petunia piped up.

"I know we let you come with us today, but that doesn't mean anything else changes. Besides, the only reason we're bringing you along is that maybe if the storekeepers see us with two kids instead of one, they'll give us an extra discount. Isn't that right, Vernon?"

"Yes, yes, very much so. Boy, I know you thought you were clever, asking to come along just to buy cleaning products. I'm not stupid. You can't even read! How are you supposed to find the right cleaning products if you cant read? All you wanted was to come along with us - the cleaning products were just an excuse. And why do you want to come along with us? Because Dudders gets to! It's obvious that you're jealous of him. Thats just too bad. Like I told you many times before, in this house, Dudders gets what he gets, you get what you get, and thats the end of it. Oh, and one more thing. Even though the cleaning products are an excuse, you promised to clean the oven and the fireplace. You're still going to do that. If you learn to keep your promises like a real man, you might turn out decent. Understand?"

"Yes Uncle, I got it. I was silly to give you the excuse, and I'm going to keep my promises."

"Thats right, now hurry up and finish the bacon. Petunia, go wake Dudley up."

Well, Harry thought, Vernon had seen through his plan. But it didn't really matter as long as Vernon let him come. The dream of Diagon Alley was still alive.

After the Dursleys had finally finished eating, it was time to go. Naturally, when Petunia told Dudley that Harry was coming along, Dudley threw a fit. Thankfully this was one of Dudley's lesser tantrums and Harry was still allowed on the trip. They all piled into the car and set off for London.

Within the first few minutes of the car ride, Harry already saw many things that he didn't know existed. For one, he didn't realize how many people lived in London and its surroundings - on this trip alone Harry estimated that he had already seen several thousand cars. He also admired the beauty of the many green spaces on either side of the freeway. There were all kinds of trees, and especially amazing were endless fields of green that stretched all the way to the horizon. Harry realized how wrong his previous worldview was. He used to believe that all of England was like Little Whinging with its neat little houses and perfectly manicured lawns, and now he saw that clearly wasn't the case. As they took the hour-long commute into London, the countryside gave way to London proper, and Harry saw more of what he had missed. He was amazed at the size of some of these buildings, Big Ben and the London Eye in particular. Harry wished that this car ride would never end - watching the world go by like this was far better than anything that he had ever experienced. Then he was jolted back to reality when the car slowed down and took a sudden left into a parking lot.

"We're here guys. Petunia, you take Dudders to the kid store that he really liked last time. I'll take the brat to get cleaning products. We should finish first, so afterwards we'll come find you in the kid store."

And they were off. Harry watched Petunia and Dudley disappear into the one section of the shopping center as he and Vernon went in the other direction.

"Listen, boy. I'll do all the talking, you just stand there and look smart. Stay close, we want people to think that we're poor to get a discount."

Harry wasn't listening because he was thinking of an excuse to get away from Vernon.

"If you want, we can both look for what we need. Won't that be faster?"

"Are you listening to me at all, you brat? I just said to stay close. No, you cannot go searching on your own."

Ok, Harry thought, I need to try something else. He decided to wait until they had arrived at the store, and continued to walk alongside Vernon.

After a ten minute walk, Harry followed Vernon into a store called "Best Cleaning and Janitorial Solutions".

"We're here, boy. Be on your best behavior."

Now or never, Harry thought.

"Uncle, I really need to go to the bathroom."

"What? You went before we left the house. And you haven't had anything to drink either. Just hold it!"

Harry tried to sound as convincing as possible.

"But Uncle, I really have to go. I don't think I can hold it!"

Vernon still looked undecided, but when he noticed other people staring at Harry in pity, he finally relented.

"Fine, boy. I'll wait for you right here. Hurry, and don't try anything or you'll regret it!"

Harry nodded in consent, and then started jogging toward the bathroom which was at the other end of the store. Once he was out of Vernon's sight, Harry stopped and considered his next move. He could just go to the bathroom and wait for another time, but Harry didn't think a better opportunity than this would present itself. The problem was that if he disappeared now he would have no good excuse for Vernon, but he doubted that he could actually figure out a good excuse in any case. Harry decided to go for broke now and try to find Diagon Alley.

The first step, Harry thought, was to figure out where Diagon Alley was. In order to do that, he needed to find someone or something that knew, and in order to do that, he needed to go somewhere where Vernon couldn't find him. It was obvious that he needed to leave this store, but Vernon was standing twenty feet from the door. Harry came up with an ingenious plan: he would wait for Vernon to come look for him, thereby vacating his place by the door, and then make his escape. That is exactly what Harry did. After fifteen minutes, Harry spied Vernon angrily walking toward the bathroom. When Harry saw Vernon's expression, for a moment he was paralyzed with fear as he had been countless times in the past, but he managed to shake off the fear and calmly walk out the front door.

Once outside, Harry realized how badly he had planned this out. Here he was, a kid who could barely read, alone in a shopping mall and looking for a place that could be tens of miles away and might not even exist. But for some reason Harry felt good, he felt free. I could get used to this, Harry thought. Then Harry realized that once Vernon noticed he wasn't in the cleaning products store, he would come looking. And even though Vernon was a portly man, there was no way Harry could get away from him in a footrace. In other words, it was time to run. Harry, wasting no time, picked a random path and took off.

Once Harry was satisfied he was far enough away so that Vernon wouldn't be able to find him, he stopped to catch his breath and reevaluate the situation. Now that he had gotten away, Harry tried to figure out how to find Diagon Alley. Who would even know about Diagon Alley? Maybe if Harry asked enough random people, he would eventually get lucky? Nah, that seemed like a terrible idea. He noticed that several shops down there was a information center. That was a good place to start.

The lady at the receptionist desk looked like a nice person. Harry walked up.

"Excuse me?"

She looked up from her desk and smiled.

"Yes?"

"I was wondering if you knew where Diagon Alley was."

The woman frowned.

"Diagon Alley? I don't think we have a Diagon Alley, but let me check."

She opened some sort of catalog and spent a few minutes perusing it.

"Nope. No Diagon Alley. Maybe you were looking for something else? We do have a couple shops named after dragons."

Harry did a mental sigh. So he hadn't gotten lucky - Diagon Alley was somewhere else in London.

"No, I'll tell my aunt and uncle that there isn't a Diagon Alley here. Thanks for your help!"

"Wait - there's also a tourist information place near here. Maybe you could ask there? I have a feeling that your "Diagon Alley" could be in a different shopping center."

"Ok, I'll do that. Thanks again."

Perhaps Harry would have better luck at the tourist info place like the woman thought. He certainly hoped so.

The tourist information place looked exactly like the shopping center info point, except there was a man instead of a woman at the desk.

"Hi there. Do you know of a place named Diagon Alley anywhere?"

The man looked at him.

"Diagon Alley, Diagon Alley - don't think I've ever heard of it. But let me check in the yellow pages."

He brought down a huge, yellowing book and started flipping through it.

"Diagon Alley, hmm. This is C, here's D, Di, Dia, ah, I see Diamond, but not Diagon. Sorry kid, I can't find it. Diagon Alley, you said."

Suddenly the man's eyeballs rolled back as if he was going through some kind of seizure. Then he started talking in a much more monotone voice as if he were delivering a lecture at university.

"Diagon Alley is at the end of Charing Cross Road in London. If you require assistance entering please consult the barkeeper at the nearby Leaky Cauldron Inn. If you require transportation please hail the Night Bus, or alternatively use regular Muggle transportation. Do you have any questions?"

To stunned to do anything but go along with it, Harry replied.

"Yes. Erm, I don't suppose you have some money on you? I would like to use, what was it, "Muggle" transportation, but I don't have any money."

The man took a moment to process what Harry said, and then reached in his pocket, took out his wallet, and threw it at Harry.

"Here is your assistance to use Muggle transportation. Do you have any other questions?"

"Uh... No. Thank you so much for your help! I promise - I promise that I'll pay you back your money some day!"

To freaked out to say anything else, Harry stuffed the wallet into his pants and took off. He kept running until the tourist information center with the weird guy was out of sight, and then stepped into another clothing store. What the hell had just happened? The first woman was nice enough and said that Diagon Alley didn't exist, and then the second man also said the same thing. Then something happened to him, he started talking completely differently, and all of a sudden he knew where Diagon Alley was, and from memory, too! What. The. Hell. It seemed that this Diagon Alley had some weird power in Harry's life - first it popped up in Petunia's hidden notes, and now it was possessing random workers at the shopping center. But at least he knew (if he trusted the man) where Diagon Alley was. Harry had never heard of Charing Cross Road before, but if the road existed he could get a map and find it. He also had some money! Looking through the man's wallet, he found three hundred-quid notes. Three hundred quid! Dudley's weekly allowance was only thirty quid. Harry had ten times that amount! Besides the hundred-quid notes, there was also a whole bunch of smaller change. Harry was no mathematician, but he eventually figured out that he had in excess of four hundred quid.

Trying to regroup his thoughts, Harry suddenly noticed the time on the clock facing him. It was already noon! The Dursleys had arrived at ten thirty, which meant Harry had already been gone more than a hour. At this point Vernon was sure to be livid, and Harry realized there was no point going back now. Whether he went back now or later would make no difference - he was probably getting beat. Harry shivered at that thought. He hated the beatings. Sometimes it wasn't too bad, but other times Vernon hit him so hard he nearly blacked out. Judging by the severity of what he was doing, the beating he would get was sure to be on the worse end of the scale. With this realization of the trouble he was in came the fear he had earlier. What was he doing? Robbing people, running from his family, and chasing a place that nobody in their right mind said existed? Perhaps he should end this farce now, go back to the cleaning products store, and apologize profusely to try and salvage the situation. But then Harry remembered the hopelessness he always felt, and again resolved that this Diagon Alley could be his best chance for the future, and damn the consequences.

So what was his next move? He was feeling a bit hungry, and now he was rich. He could actually get something to eat for a change! Just the thought of some proper food had Harry's mouth salivating. What should he get? Some ice cream? That was Dudley's favorite, and Harry had to admit it was delicious. He knew better though, and settled for a double bacon cheeseburger at the neighboring cafe. It was probably the best meal he'd ever had, and it restored his mood. By now it was early afternoon, and Harry realized he better get a move on. He was originally going to call a taxi to take him to Charing Cross Road, but now he questioned whether any decent taxi driver would let a kid ride and pay alone. If he could convince someone to come with him - no, bad idea. Then private transportation was out of the question. What about public transit? Harry knew London had tons of buses (he had seen many on the way to the shopping center), so hopefully there was a bus route to Charing Cross Road.

It turned out that Harry was pretty close to the bus station, which was at the end of the hall he was in. Once he got to the station, he asked for directions to Charing Cross Road.

"Excuse me, sir. Is there a bus that goes to the end of Charing Cross Road?"

"Which end would you be talking about, lad?"

"Um, what do you mean?"

"Well, Charing Cross Road has one end at the Charing Cross Underground, and another end at the Mornington Crescent Subway Station."

"Which one is closest to downtown?"

"That would be the Charing Cross Underground end, laddie."

"Ok, I think that's the one I want."

"All right, you need to get on that bus over there."

The conductor pointed at a green double-decker bus.

"Fare is two quid one way, you'll get off at the Charing Cross Underground stop. Although personally I'm not sure why anyone would want to go there, because there isn't much to see."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, its just not the best part of London, you know what I mean? If you're into rickety old bookstores and a few garbage dumps, I suppose that's your place."

"Ok, thanks for your help."

"No problem, lad!"

So the conductor didn't think there was anything there. Interesting. Well, at this point Harry was too far gone to turn back now. He got on the bus.

The bus ride was even better than the earlier car ride. In the morning he had only seen a few of London's famous landmarks, but this bus went straight through the heart of London. Harry wished he had a camera to document all of this - he couldn't believe the world was so big!

After a half hour on the bus, Harry got off at his stop. He looked around. The conductor hadn't been lying. At the end of Charing Cross road, on the right side, was the entrance to the Underground. On the left side there was a couple of old bookstores and a broken-down old shop front. Straight ahead was a brick wall with paint peeling off. There was no alley that Harry could see, and even if there had been Harry would have thought twice about staying long in this neighborhood. Doubt started to creep into Harry's mind. What if Diagon Alley was just some place that Petunia dreamt up? What if Harry had just gone on a trip with a dead end? How in the world could he explain that to the Dursleys?

As Harry was lamenting his terrible luck, he noticed several weirdly dressed people walking down Charing Cross Road. There were three of them, and they were all wearing long, billowy cloaks and had foot-long sticks tucked into their pants. Were they a theatre troupe like the ones Petunia watched on the telly? Harry didn't know. Thankfully they didn't notice Harry, who was tucked in the shadow of one of the bookshop overhangs. Harry watched as they approached the brick wall. Then one of them took out his stick, tapped several bricks, and... disappeared. A moment later, the other two men also disappeared. Harry blinked. What? That shouldn't be possible. He waited until he was satisfied the three men were gone, and then approached the wall himself. He used his finger to poke the same bricks as the first guy, and nothing happened. Harry looked down at his body, and sure enough he was still there - definitely not invisible. Maybe I'm just tired and seeing things now, Harry thought to himself.

After he convinced himself that nothing had happened to him, Harry went back to his hiding spot. He figured that if more people showed up, tapped on the bricks with a stick, and disappeared, then something was definitely up. Otherwise it was more likely that Harry was going insane. So he waited.


	4. Chapter 4

His hunch was right. Over the next two hours, Harry watched as more groups of people performed the stick-brick ritual and disappeared into the wall. He also noticed that the people were dressed weirdly. He hadn't seen a single one of the strange people wearing a T-shirt - it was all long cloaks and weird pointy hats. They spoke normal English, all right, but they talked about strange things. From his spot, Harry could only make out a few tidbits of conversation, and he heard things like "No, No, you have to stir three times left, and then add the boomslang eyes" and "The new Irish seeker is so good that he caught the snitch in two minutes!". People were also coming out as well as going into the brick wall, and Harry saw that these people usually had bags full of stuff with them. Maybe there was a secret shop behind the wall?

It was getting late. When Harry took the bus here, he hadn't thought how he would get back, or even if he wanted to go back. Considering that Vernon hit him for the smallest of things, Harry didn't even want to think about what Vernon would do this time. But if he didn't go back, where would he stay? Harry had no friends and didn't know anyone outside of Little Whinging, much less this godforsaken part of London he had wandered into. Harry remembered the stories that Petunia told him about what happened to bad kids who ran away: they would be kidnapped and never seen again. Harry really didn't want that. Then again, nobody had hurt him yet, and actually people were pretty nice. Harry decided to try his luck some more.

Just then, a large group of people appeared at the street intersection and started walking toward the brick wall. Once they same closer, Harry got a better look at them. This was interesting - all but one of them had red hair, and about half were Harry's age. Harry decided they were probably a large family, and also wondered if because of that they would be willing to help him out. Harry stepped out from behind his hiding spot.

"Um, excuse me?"

The group of redheads stopped and turned to face him. The kids looked confused, but the woman plastered a smile on her face.

"Yes, dear? What can I help you with?"

Harry pointed at the brick wall. "Can you show me how to get in?"

"Ah, you've never been to Diagon Alley before. It's really simple."

The woman walked over to the wall.

"You just press these bricks here, and then the door opens. See?"

Harry watched as she disappeared through the wall, and then appeared again a few seconds later.

"Now you try."

With a feeling of dread, Harry approached the wall. He knew this wouldn't work for him, because he already tried it earlier and nothing happened. Still, he pressed the bricks in the order the woman directed, closed his eyes, and stepped forward. As expected, he banged his head straight into the wall, lost his balance, and tumbled to the ground.

The rest of the redheaded family exploded into laughter, and the woman frowned at him.

"Mom, he's a Muggle!"

The boy with black hair chimed in.

"Did you see how he just walked into the wall like an ape? He... He still doesn't know what's going on! Dumb Muggle!"

Everyone started laughing again.

The tallest redhead, presumably the father, tried to calm everyone down.

"Now, now, Arnold, we shouldn't make fun of Muggles. Muggles can become powerful wizards too."

Arnold snickered. "Not as powerful as me."

"Well, he's right. I don't think any old Muggle could have stopped You-know-who. Isn't that right, Ginny?"

"Ron, stop being mean. He's clearly scared."

"Dears, lets go. We have a lot of things to buy."

The redheaded family shuffled through the wall, one by one. Arnold was the last one. Before he stepped through the wall, he turned to face Harry.

"Silly Muggle. You'll never be able to get in here."

Harry saw red. As Arnold moved toward the wall, Harry launched himself at him. He hit Arnold right in the stomach, heard a satisfying "oof!" sound, and started whaling away at Arnold's face. Harry knew what he was doing - Dudley, when he was in a bad mood, would try to mess with Harry, and through much trial and error Harry had figured out the best way to fight a similarly-sized small child. Arnold started chanting something, but stopped when Harry whacked him in the mouth. Then Arnold started screaming, and Harry in his rage did not notice the redheads popping back through the wall, or the tallest one pointing a stick at him.

"Stupefy!"

Harry felt himself lifted in the air and slammed into the storefront behind him. As he lost consciousness, he was dimly aware of the redheads laughing again. Then everything went black.

* * *

The first thing Harry noticed upon waking was that it was dark. The moon was high in the sky, and the alleyway completely deserted. Harry gingerly checked the bump on his head and was relieved there was no blood. He walked over to the brick wall again and decided to try the combination one more time. Still nothing.

"I guess I really am a Muggle, whatever the hell that means." Harry sighed.

He started shivering, and then realized he was out in the middle of London, alone at night, with nobody to help him.

Ought he stay here? Wait until morning to decide what to do? Nah, it was too cold, and Harry didn't feel safe. He needed somewhere to stay.

Harry quickly checked if he still had his money, and relaxed a little when he found it. Maybe he could pay someone to let him stay for the night. And so Harry walked out of the alleyway, found himself on Charing Cross road, and continued walking. He tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. There were a few stragglers in the streets, but they all seemed too incapacitated to notice him. With nothing but the occasional stray cat to keep him company, Harry stumbled on, looking for a house with light in the windows.

At last he came to one such house. Steeling himself as if Vernon were behind the door, Harry knocked. A few seconds later, an old man with a book in his hands opened the door. The man smiled.

"How are you this fine evening?"

"Uh... I'm looking for somewhere to stay, and I was hoping that... "

"Say no more! I used to teach at the city college, and I'm in sore need of company these days. You can stay, but first tell me why a kid dressed like a beggar on my doorstep."

Harry, desperate to get out of the cold, told the old professor about the strange things he had experienced, from ditching Vernon at the shopping center to riding a bus halfway across the city to spying on weird people disappearing into a brick wall to getting knocked out by a red light to his nighttime walk along Charing Cross Road. When his story was finally over, Harry looked up expectantly. The man burst out in laughter.

"I tell you kid, you'll go far as a writer if you came up with that on your own. I would have given high marks to any one of my students for your story."

"But, but it's true! You have to believe me!"

"Of course, of course. Listen, kid. You're really funny, but I think that it is time for you to sleep. There's a guest room upstairs that you can take. Tomorrow we'll call your parents, and then everything will be fine. Sounds good?"

Harry had no intention of calling the Dursleys.

"But I don't know my parents' phone number! I mean, they never let me answer anything, and I never get to call anyone either."

The professor frowned in dismay. "Well, I guess this will be more tricky than I thought. I'll have to turn you in to Child Protection tomorrow, and they'll be able to figure out where your parents are. In any case, it is getting late, and I'm sure you're tired."

Come to think of it, Harry was extremely tired. He had dealt with enough shit today - yes, Harry thought, he deserved a break from all this craziness. If he had to, he could just give the professor the slip tomorrow. So Harry Potter headed off to bed, his head still trying to make sense of the crazy world he had thrust himself into.


	5. Chapter 5

When Harry woke up the next morning, he wondered if he had died and gone to heaven. He was laying on a comfortable bed, watching the sun stream through the window, and most importantly not hearing Vernon's ugly voice. Then he remembered where he was.

"Oh shit, I gotta get out of here!"

He threw on his clothes and made sure he still had yesterday's money. But there was one problem - the bedroom door was locked. No matter how hard Harry twisted the handle, the door wouldn't budge. Then Harry remembered that the weird professor had mentioned something about 'Child Protection' and finding his parents. Well shit, Harry thought, he couldn't stay around for that.

"What am I going to do, what am I going to do... this guy is gonna come get me soon, and if I do nothing I'm going back to the Dursleys!"

Only one option, thought Harry. I have to get out. And considering the door wasn't cooperating, that left the window.

Looking out the window, Harry discovered that he was too far up to jump. There was a small pipe attached to the wall near the window, but Harry didn't fancy his chances climbing that either. Then Harry noticed a tree that he might be able to reach. He was still debating the relative merits of the tree vs. the pipe when he heard footsteps and then the professor knocking on his door.

"Kid, it's time to wake up!"

"Uh, Uh, I'm still getting dressed! Gimme five minutes please!"

Wasting no time and praying he wasn't doing something monumentally stupid, Harry backed up to the far side of room, sprinted towards the window, and took a leap of faith. Somehow he timed his jump so that he didn't hit his head on the tree, and managed to latch his arms around one of the thicker branches.

"Kid, what the hell are you doing in there? What was that sound?"

Not wasting any time to reply, Harry shimmied down the tree, ran across the garden, barged through the fence, and found himself back on Charing Cross Road. He ran as fast as he could, ignoring the angry honks and yells. Harry noticed Diagon Alley on his left, went right past it, and didn't stop until he was confident that nobody was chasing him.

Taking stock of his surroundings, Harry realized he had run into a very strange place. The people were dressed with robes and cloaks, just like the ones he had seen yesterday. Fortunately he didn't spot any redheads, but still the people were giving him odd looks. Unlike Diagon Alley, there was no brick wall that people were tapping on - in fact, Harry noticed that every single person here, incredibly, had some sort of stick on their body. Harry guessed that there were no "Muggles" here; this was a place for people that weren't Muggles. But how, then, could Harry be here? Wasn't he a Muggle too?

At this point more and more of the non-Muggles were staring at him, so Harry turned around and headed back towards Charing Cross Road. He was approaching the intersection when he spotted the professor accompanied by several policemen. Panicking, Harry looked for somewhere to hide, but all the stores were closed and there was nothing large enough to conceal him. Harry closed his eyes and braced for whatever punishment awaited him.

After about a minute, Harry opened his eyes again. The professor was gone, and so were the police! Somehow they hadn't spotted him, even though he was literally thirty feet away.

This was new - was he invisible now? Was the professor just really stupid? Better to ask, Harry thought.

Summoning his courage, Harry walked back toward the non-Muggle area and approached one of the stick-men.

"Excuse me?"

"Yes, boy?"

"Um, I was running away from some... bad people. I was right next to them, but they didn't see me!"

"Oh, the Muggles were chasing you? Well you're pretty smart - this area is warded, so Muggles can't see us. But what did they want from you? And where are your parents?"

Thinking fast, Harry came up with an excuse.

"My parents are in Diagon Alley. I got bored, so they let me walk around for a bit. Then some Muggles started chasing me and I ended up here."

The man's eyes narrowed.

"Don't lie to me, boy! No Muggle could ever get into Diagon Alley - the place might be the most secure area in all of London. Now, let me ask you again. What were you doing?"

Harry continued to bluff.

"Please sir, I'm telling the truth! I swear I was being chased, and then I ran in here."

The man locked eyes with him intently. Harry felt a vague discomfort in his head which steadily got worse, but for some reason he couldn't break the eye contact.

"Stop, please! What are you doing?"

"Interesting... so you are telling the truth. Being chased by Muggles indeed. How did they find you..."

The pain in Harry's head was getting worse and worse, but as hard as Harry tried, he couldn't stop the man. He tried to use his hands to shield his eyes, but found that they wouldn't cooperate.

"Goodness me, aren't you a feisty one! Are all Squibs like this? No, but even Squibs can get into Diagon Alley, so you must be something else. One of the Ministry's experiments? A Muggle modified to get through anti-Muggle wards? Let's see..."

Harry couldn't take it anymore. He went to his emergency escape tactic - spitting directly into the guy's face. The man was caught off guard, and Harry felt the grip on his eyes and the pain in his head diminish. He used his chance to try and grab the stick from the man's hand.

"Confringo!"

Harry watched in horror as the jet of orange light hit him square in the chest, blasting him across the street. He rolled to a stop amidst the rubble, and gradually realized that the skin on his chest had been blown off. He screamed as blood began leaking out. The man advanced on him, face twisted in a snarl.

"You would dare insult me! Boy! You are nothing, you understand? I don't know how you got past the Muggle wards, but mark my words: you, and all the rest of the Muggle filth will be wiped out. When the Dark Lord returns, you will know pain!"

He raised his stick again.

"Diffindo!"

Another jet of light sped towards Harry. This is the end, Harry thought. There was no getting out of this.

But as the light was about to hit him, a translucent barrier appeared in front of him and absorbed it. In his barely-conscious state, Harry heard another man's voice.

"It is unwise to attack unarmed children, Higgs."

"Snape! Traitor! What are you doing here?"

"I was going about my business when I heard a blasting curse go off. I came to investigate, and lo-and-behold I see a fully-grown wizard assaulting a child."

"He's some weird Muggle, Snape. I looked in his head - he couldn't get into Diagon Alley, but the wards here didn't keep him out. Besides, when the Dark Lord returns, he will die anyways. I'm merely speeding up the process."

Snape hissed angrily.

"You fool. Do not speak of him in public. Have you already forgotten that we lost the war? Has it gotten through your thick skull that only through secrecy can we hope to survive? Higgs - there was a reason you were never promoted: your intellect is truly nonexistent. I will handle this boy myself. Begone!"

Still muttering to himself, Higgs sauntered off.

Once Higgs was gone, Snape turned to Harry and began performing some complex incantations.

"Wha.. Wha you doin?"

"Boy, I am healing your skin. You are lucky that Higgs didn't put much on that blasting curse, or else you'd be dead by now."

"Oh. Thanks, I guess."

"Please, just shut up. I am trying to concentrate."

"Ok."

Once Snape completed his incantation, he reached in his pocket and pulled out some vials of fluid.

"Drink these."

Harry smelled the vials and almost threw up.

"Ew... what is that stuff?"

"Drink. Now. Or do you want to be permanently deformed?"

Harry didn't know what that meant, but it didn't sound good, and this Snape guy was scary. So he drank them. Once he got over the aftertaste, Harry realized he was feeling better already. His chest didn't feel like it was on fire, which was surely a good sign.

"Thank you, sir."

Snape's facial expression didn't change one bit.

"Now, boy, explain to me who you are and how you came to be here."

Harry gulped. He tried to lie to the other guy, and that had almost gotten him killed. So Harry told the truth this time as Snape listened intently.


	6. Chapter 6

"... And so that Higgs guy was going to keep blasting me, and you showed up."

Snape rubbed his eyes. It had been a very, very long morning.

"That's some story, kid. If I didn't know any better I'd say you were lying, but I know you're telling the truth."

"So... what should I do now?"

"Honestly? You're in a lot of trouble. Your parents are probably worried sick, and the fact that you've been running all over the city doesn't help either. I know how the Muggle world works - as soon as we're done here I'm taking you right to the police."

"No - you can't!"

Snape raised on eyebrow.

"And why is that?"

"I... I was trying to get into Diagon Alley, remember? I need to do something there first."

"And what would a child have to do in Diagon Alley? From what you told me your parents are both Muggles - I'm surprised you even know where it is. Our world has a law of secrecy, which means Muggles aren't supposed to know about it. In fact, technically I should wipe your memory, but I'll make an exception to the rule. Now, let's go! I have stuff to do, and I grow more and more annoyed by your company every passing second."

"Please, Mr. Snape, can I just show you something? For some reason I couldn't get into Diagon Alley, even though I tapped the bricks in the right order."

"Yes, you told me about that. I imagine it's because you're actually a Muggle - the entrance is charmed to keep Muggles out."

"But I'm not a Muggle. How else could I be here?"

Snape shrugged.

"Magic isn't fully understood, so it's probably some weird interaction between you and the anti-Muggle ward. Now come!"

Harry desperately tried to think of something. He suddenly remembered his original plan - to find out why he was getting those weird headaches.

"Wait, there's one more thing!"

"Boy, you are already more insolent than most of the dunces I teach! Thank god I won't have to teach you also. This is the last one of your questions I'm going to answer. After this, if another peep coms out of you, I'm going to knock you unconscious. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

"Ok, I promise I won't ask anything else. But the reason I came to Diagon Alley in the first place was because I was getting these terrible headaches whenever I tried to do a spell."

Snape started laughing.

"You're a Muggle - of course your head is going to hurt when you try to do a spell. It's never going to work no matter how hard you try, so you're probably thinking too hard."

"Well the only reason I know Diagon Alley exists is because I found some notes in my house about some people named Lily and Sev, and about how they went to Diagon Alley and..."

Snape turned around so quickly that his cloak whipped dust into Harry's face.

"What did you say those people were named?"

"Uh, Lily and Sev."

"Lily and Sev. So you must be Petunia Dursley's brat?"

Harry's mouth fell open in shock.

"How... How do you know that?"

"That's not important. What is important is that you're in luck. I'm not bringing you to the police. I'll take you to her house myself."

"How do you know where we live?"

"Privet Drive, yes? I guess you deserve to know. Petunia had a younger sister named Lily. Lily was a very powerful witch who became famous in our world for... various reasons. I knew her, and by extension Petunia early on in her life, and I've kept tabs on them. That's how I know where Petunia ended up."

Harry debated whether or not to tell Snape the truth. To hell with it, he thought. I'm so screwed that it doesn't matter at this point.

"There's one thing you have wrong, sir. Petunia isn't my mother."

Snape's eyes widened.

"Lily?"

"Well I don't actually know, Petunia never told me. But I know I'm not her kid, because if I was she wouldn't always be going on about how much better Dudley is."

"Classic Petunia, always so stuck-up and jealous. Look me in the eye."

Confused, Harry did as he asked.

"Yes, you have her eyes. You're Lily's son, no doubt. Petunia never liked Lily much, and it seems that attitude never left her. So Petunia never told you who you really are?"

"Nope."

Snape sighed.

"Here's a quick summary. Your full name is Harry Potter. Your mother is Lily Evans, a powerful witch, and your father is James Potter, a... wizard."

Snape's sneered at the mention of James Potter.

"Both your parents fought in the war against the Dark Lord, and they were both killed. You and your twin brother somehow managed to survive, and your twin brother managed to kill the Dark Lord in that fight. For that reason he's celebrated as the Boy-Who-Lived."

"I have a twin brother? Where is he?"

"The night the Dark Lord killed your parents and was in turn vanquished by your brother, the decision was made to send you to live with Petunia and your brother to live with a wizarding family named the Weasley's. Because of your brother's fame the Weasley's are rich now, and your brother - let's just say that he's following in James Potter's footsteps."

"I knew it! I can't be a Muggle then, right?"

"Yes, in a certain sense. You're actually a Squib."

"What's that?"

"Squibs are witches and wizards that have very little magical capacity. They're basically Muggles except for the fact that they know about our world."

"Is my brother a Squib too?"

"No, your brother will grow up to be a full-fledged wizard. You on the other hand will not."

Harry wanted to cry.

"So I'm never going to be able to do magic?"

"I'm afraid not."

"So what should I do?"

"Honestly, the best thing would probably be for you to forget all of this. Live a normal Muggle life. I know Petnuia doesn't like you, but there's not much to be done about that. Just do your best. If you lay low no wizards should bother you - in fact, most wizards don't even know you exist. The official storyline is that Lily only had one kid, your brother. Now come."

With a heavy heart, Harry followed Snape out of the alley. He was resigned to his fate as a good-for-nothing Muggle.

"I was going to take you back to Privet Drive, but I don't think that would be fair. I'll take you to Lily's old house in Godric's Hollow first so you can see for yourself that everything I've told you is true. Hold on to my hand closely."

Harry grabbed on to Snape's hand as directed. He saw the world blur around him and felt he was being squeezed into a tube. He couldn't breathe at all as various shapes rushed passed him. He made out several large buildings, trees, mountains, and then with a loud bang the world came back into focus. Harry, completely disoriented, landed headfirst in the dirt.

"Not bad, especially for a Squib."

"What did we just do?"

"We just apparated. In Muggle vocabulary we teleported, if you know what that means."

"Whoa - that's SO COOL. Wizards can just do that? They can teleport wherever they want?"

Snape cracked a smile - the first smile Harry had ever seen on his face.

"No, Harry. The further you want to apparate, the more powerful you need to be. We're about one hundred kilometers outside London. That's Godric's Hollow."

Snape waved his hand towards the small town in front of them.

"My parents died here?"

"Yes. I'm sorry."

Harry followed Snape through the main road of the town, passing by a few inns and shops. They turned off on a side road, walked some more, and arrived at a large pile of rubble. There were a bunch of people gathered around the pile. Harry noticed that all these people were dressed like Snape and had wood sticks - they must be wizards, he thought. Snape looked around and started talking again.

"This is what remains of Lily's house. If you want to take a look around, I won't stop you. Just don't wander too far. When you're done I'll be here waiting."

Harry hesitantly approached the rubble. None of the other wizards seemed to care what he was doing, so he carefully stuck his hand on one of the rocks. It was cold to the touch. "I used to live here?" thought Harry. He examined another pile of rubble. There was nothing special about it, but for some reason Harry felt drawn further into the ruin. He kept walking, and stumbled to a halt. Here the ground seemed to be cloven in two - there was a jagged, unnatural looking black mark on the ground. Drawn to it for some reason, Harry bent down and touched the mark.

As soon as his finger made contact, Harry's head exploded in pain. He tried to remove his finger from the ground, but it wouldn't budge. His vision began to dim, and in place of the real world strange visions came to the forefront. Harry saw a beautiful red-haired woman yelling in panic, a tall, hooded figure raising a wooden stick, a flash of sickly green light, and then the woman's lifeless body crumpled on the floor.

"NO!"

Try as he might, Harry couldn't escape whatever demented vision this was. He looked on in horror as the dark man turned to face the two babies. He tried yelling and screaming but he couldn't get the man's attention. As the man raised his stick toward the babies, Harry through the haze of pain threw all his willpower into stopping the man. He didn't notice as in the real world a green mist the color of his eyes began coming out of the ground.

Snape was still waiting when the ground started shaking. Earthquake? Impossible - Britain didn't get earthquakes. Then he saw the green mist coming out of the ground. The mist hovered for a few seconds, and then all of it rushed towards a point in the middle of the ruins. Snape rushed after the mist, but it was too late.

Harry watched helplessly as the sickly green light shot out towards one of the babies. Time seemed to slow down. He watched the light inch closer and closer to the baby, and he continued to do whatever he could to remove his finger from the ground. Finally, as the light was about a foot from the baby's face, Harry felt a huge influx of power into his body. He noticed a bunch of dark green mist flowing into him. Wasting no time to marvel at the sensation, he used the new power instinctively to separate his finger from the dark scar. Then, he focused it and shot all the mist into the path of the green light. The light hit the mist and Harry's world went white.

Snape watched in horror as all the green mist went inside Harry's body. A fraction of a second later a huge shockwave emanated from Harry, blasting concentrically outwards. Shape hastily threw up the most powerful shield he knew and braced for impact. The shockwave pierced his shield like a hot knife through butter and picked him up, tossing him fifty feet in the air. He watched as the entire town of Godric's Hollow was destroyed, his last thought before he lost consciousness being that Dumbledore was for sure going to kill him this time.

When Harry came to, he noticed three things. First, the town was gone - all the buildings had disappeared and several hundred people were on the ground, all unconscious or worse. Second, he felt fantastic - gone were the lethargy and nagging headaches of old; now Harry felt newly energized. And third, the black scar on the ground had disappeared completely. He decided to look for Snape. He didn't have to go far. Snape was crumpled up and bleeding about fifty feet away. Harry cautiously poked him. Snape opened one eye.

"What are you?"


	7. Chapter 7

"What are you?"

Harry burst into tears.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I don't know what just happened! I swear!"

Snape groaned and managed to get back on his feet. He opened his mouth and started laughing uncontrollably.

"Well, I guess Dumbledore was wrong. You definitely aren't a Squib."

His expression became more serious.

"You need to get out of here now. If Aurors catch you, Azkaban will be the least of your worries.

"Azkaban?"

"Right, Petunia raised you as a shut-in Muggle, my bad. Azkaban is wizarding prison. The people who get sent there are the worst of the worst."

"But I didn't do anything wrong!"

Snape snorted.

"You didn't do anything wrong? How dumb are you? Look around. You leveled the entire town. Hopefully you didn't kill anyone, but best case you're responsible for ruining all these people's lives. You also destroyed the place where the Dark Lord was stopped - it's practically sacred to Wizarding Britain."

"It was just an accident!"

"True. We actually have laws for accidents caused by kids without control of their magic - but those sorts of accidents are something like a spoon disappearing or someone getting stunned. Something of this scale could never be classified as accidental magic."

"So... So am I a bad person?"

"I don't think so. A bit dull, perhaps, but certainly not bad. It doesn't matter if you're good or bad, though - it only matters what others can see. You'll learn that in time. For now, RUN!"

"Where should I go?"

"Anywhere, and go quickly. You see those people in the red cloaks? Those are Aurors."

Harry saw more and more of the red-robed wizards appearing on the outskirts of town.

"I'll try to distract them, but I can't distract them forever. GO!"

And with that, Harry bolted for the forest on the other edge of town. While he was running he noticed quite a few people staring at him, but none of them came after him. After what seemed like an eternity, Harry reached the edge of the forest and finally slowed down. He looked back at the town which was now swarming with red-cloaks. Snape had disappeared from sight. So now what to do? He obviously couldn't go back the way he came, but he didn't really want to venture deeper into the forest either - he had read books about things like giant bears and wolves that lived in forests, and he didn't want another near-death experience so soon. Harry decided to stay where he was for now, hoping that once things died down he could find someone to help him out.

Reflexively Harry reached in his pocket to check if his money was still there. Thankfully it was. Well, Harry thought, that means if I get back to Muggle civilization I'll have some time to figure things out. How far away did Snape say they were from London? One hundred kilometers? Definately too far to walk. He needed some form of transportation then. Muggle bus? That might work if he could find one.

Frustrated, Harry kicked the weed growing next to him. He sliced it clean in two and watched in satisfaction as the upper part keeled over and hit the ground. Harry suddenly felt a bit strange. Something had just happened - Harry could have swore that he just saw a light go out. He blinked a couple times to make sure he wasn't imagining things and then focused on a different weed. After staring for a few seconds, there it was again! This time Harry kept his eyes locked and examined the light closely. It appeared be coming from inside the plant, which made no sense since the leaves were opaque. Harry yelled at the plant in an attempt to make the light go away. Nothing happened. The light continued to emanate outwards from the plant. Harry put his hand on the leaves in an attempt to block the light, which had no effect at all; the light just went straight through his hand.

Harry took his focus away from the plant - lo-and-behold, the light was gone. It seemed like the lights only appeared when he concentrated on specific objects. With this in mind, Harry tried concentrating on a tree. After a few seconds, there it was! Harry immediately noted that the tree's light was both larger and more vibrant than the weed's light. It was also a much nicer color to look at - the tree light was a dark, fresh green while the weed light was a moldy yellow. I wonder what would happen if I looked at myself, thought Harry. Obviously he couldn't really stare at himself, so Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on an image of himself.

A few seconds of darkness ensued, and then... Harry's mind exploded a beautiful medley of white, green and blue. His jaw dropped in awe as he examined the kaleidoscope of colors more closely. The green in particular looked familiar - it was exactly the same color as the green mist that he'd used to accidentally blow up Godric's Hollow! Harry dropped the vision instantly, his jubilation replaced with fear. Did this mean he was stuck with the green mist forever? Was his fate to be an unsafe time bomb that could go off and blow up cities at any time? Harry sighed. Worrying about this wouldn't achieve anything - he would keep the green mist a secret until he found someone that knew what it was.

Harry spent the next few hours testing his newfound ability on the flora and fauna of the forest. He quickly realized that only living things let off light. Inanimate objects like rocks, dirt, and sand all were completely dark. Smaller and more annoying plants, like thorns, weeds, or rough grass gave off an unpleasant aura, usually uniformly moldy-yellow. Larger plants like trees and bushes gave off nicer-looking green auras. Small bugs and animals, for example snails, beetles, and mice gave off dull beige-colored auras, whereas the lone large deer Harry had run into gave off a slightly larger but still dull beige aura. Harry, without any rigorous training in Arithmancy, had no clue what any of this was. All he knew was that living things gave off auras, and relatively "nicer" life gave off auras that were bigger and nicer to look at. Of course, none of the auras Harry observed came close to the vibrancy of his own, but Harry wasn't about to look at his own aura again in fear of setting off the green mist.

At this point the sun was setting, and Harry was once again faced with the prospect of sleeping outside. Only this time, he wasn't in the middle of a big city, and there weren't likely to be college professors willing to give him a room for the night. He really didn't want to sleep in the forest - it was cold and wet, and he was deathly afraid that something would eat him. Godric's Hollow was still in shambles, so that wasn't an option either. Only one option then, Harry thought. No sleep for you tonight.

Harry didn't want to stay in one place, so he started following the forest edge, which by a stroke of luck led straight away from Godric's Hollow. It was slow going. There was no trail or road, so Harry regularly had to stop to untangle his feet from roots, or find an away around an unpassable thicket of trees. He went on like this for an hour, then gradually realized that in his current weakened state there was no way he had the strength to keep up the same effort for the rest of the night. But he had decided not to sleep either, so Harry was reduced to laying with his back against a tree, looking warily around him and praying for sunrise to come. Even with his best efforts, Harry couldn't ward off sleep forever. Gradually his eyes drooped until they closed.

Harry was woken by a strange voice.

"Quick! Get away! Get away!"

Startled, Harry looked around for the source of the voice.

"Behind you!"

Harry looked behind him, and saw in the distance a group of men carrying what looked like weapons. He was about to run, and then realized that he might be able to use his newfound ability to scan the men. Harry took a deep breath, focused on the men, and saw...

Five auras of blood red mixed with oily black. The auras were so repellant that Harry could taste vomit in his mouth, and only through sheer force of will was he able to keep his stomach down. Making sure the five men weren't looking in his direction, Harry darted off in the direction of the voice.

"This way! Towards the river!"

Confused, Harry realized the voice was coming from all directions. Where exactly was this river? Harry tried to respond.

"Where's the river?"

"I'm talking to you in your head! Respond through there!"

Harry noticed all five men turn around, look right at him, and start running.

Oh shit Oh shit thought Harry, they must've heard me!

Harry panicked and started running in a random direction. It was no use - there was no way he could outrun an adult. He heard the five men closing in on him. Harry found himself in a clearing, and with nowhere to hide wheeled around to face his fate. Two things happened at the same time.

The fastest of the five men reached the edge of the clearing, crossbow in hand, and loosed a bolt at Harry. At the same time, a huge animal came bounding from the other side, jumped over Harry, intercepted the bolt, and crashed into the man. There wasn't much of a struggle - Harry watched in fascination and horror as the animal ripped the man's head clean off. Blood spurted from his severed neck, but the animal paid no heed as it crashed through the foliage in search of the other four men. Harry heard several more screams in the next few seconds, and then saw the animal bounding back towards him. Harry prepared for the end, but amazingly the creature stopped right in front of him and looked at him expectantly. Harry got a better look at what exactly this thing was. It looked like a very large cat, albeit a cat with a much stronger body and two-inch long teeth.

"Uh, thanks! Please don't kill me too!" Harry managed to squeak out.

Child and big cat looked each other in the eye.

The big cat broke eye contact first.

"Hello child. What brings you here to the Forbidden Forest?"


	8. Chapter 8

"Uh, I was running from some bad people."

The cat raised its head to stare intently at Harry.

"Why?"

"I don't know. I was asleep, and you woke me up."

"No, why were you near the Forbidden Forest in the first place?"

Harry didn't respond - he didn't want to incriminate himself for the Godric's Hollow incident.

The cat wagged it's head ruefully.

"A touchy subject, I guess? That's fine. I'm only curious because the magic school bans human children from the Forbidden Forest, so I thought you might be lost."

"Magic school? What magic school?"

Harry's heart leapt. This might be a way out of his current predicament.

"So you're not one of them? Interesting. I think the school's name is Hogg Warts, Hog-Warts, something like that. Now that I think about it, you're a bit too young, but give it a few years and you could be one of the students."

"How do I get in the school?"

"You ask many questions, young one. I'm afraid I can't help you with that. I don't usually concern myself with human matters, and most of the time I can't understand them."

"But you can understand me!"

"That's why I was able to find you - some humans have this sort of glow about them, and you're one of them."

"Glow?"

"Yes. I don't know how else to describe it. Most humans don't give off light, but you do. And the ones that give off light I can talk to."

This was interesting to Harry, especially since the description of the 'glow' matched his scanning abilities eerily well. Still, he had more important things to ask.

"Thats so cool. But how can I understand you? And how can we talk to each other in our heads? And what are you? Why is the forest Forbidden? wh..."

"Ok, Ok, calm down there. I'll try to answer all your questions. First, I don't know why you can understand me. I'm talking the same way I talk to the rest of my kin, so I guess it just works. I don't think you know our language either, but I guess I understand you for the same unknown reason. I don't understand how this connection between us works either. That's magic for you - even humans with their big brains haven't figured out much of anything. Your also wanted to know what I was, yes? Well, in human speak that would be "pan-ther". As you can probably gather, I'm a magical creature, which means I'm different from normal "pan-thers". The forest isn't really Forbidden. I only call it Forbidden because all the humans at the magic school call it that. Makes sense too. You saw firsthand that this place isn't exactly safe."

Harry's face scrunched up trying to process all this new information.

"So is the school, what's it called, Hogwarts, near here?"

"Unfortunately not, or else I would take you there. It's actually at the other end of the forest. That's about 3 days walk for me, so for you it would be much longer."

"Ok, where's the nearest town then?"

"Human town, right? There's one down that way that's pretty close, but last I heard it was destroyed. Other than that, hmm, there's one in the opposite direction about twice as far. There's also a human path very close to here. Be careful though, it was made by non-magical humans."

"I think I'll try the path then. I know non-magical humans pretty well, so I should be fine. Thanks for your help!"

Harry swore he could see the panther smile.

"Don't worry about it. One last thing - you can see magical glows too, yes?"

"Yeah..." Harry stammered. How had the panther figured that out?

"How did I figure that out? Child, I can read your mind like an open book. You're going to have to learn how to protect yourself."

Harry was starting to get seriously creeped out.

"How should I protect myself then?"

"I can't teach you that, sorry. The other humans at the school should be able to help. Anyways, its time for me to get going. My kids are probably waiting. But good luck to you, child. I haven't met a human who can see magical glows in a long time. There's something special about you. Goodbye!"

Harry raised his hand in a parting gesture. He blinked, and the panther was gone. What the hell had just happened?

A couple hours later, Harry finally arrived the road that the panther had mentioned. It was a big highway with plenty of cars passing in both directions. Harry tried to flag down a car, and in no time a taxi pulled over. The taxi driver stuck his head out the window.

"You lost, kid?"

Harry wondered what to say. He decided to go back to London, since that was where everything started.

"Yeah, I'm supposed to go to London."

"I can take you there. You got enough money?"

"How much do I need?"

"30 pounds."

Harry dug in his pocket for the money and gave it to the driver.

"You know, you gotta be the most interesting kid I ever seen. Going to London by himself and with a fat stack of cash at that. Whatever, it ain't any of my business. Get in the car, we'll be there in no time."

Some time later, Harry awoke to the driver tapping him on the arm.

"We're almost in the city proper, kid. Where to exactly?"

Harry took a shot in the dark.

"Diagon Alley."

"I ain't ever heard of no Diagon Alley. Be serious now."

I guess that was worth a try, Harry thought.

"Sorry, I meant the Charing Cross Underground station."

"That's more like it. We'll be there in twenty minutes."

Harry took this time to make a plan. Ok, he thought to himself. There's several things I want to try. First, Snape said that I'm not actually a Squib, so I should definitely try Diagon Alley again. Then I want to get a stick like all the other wizards have. Oh yeah - I still gotta deal with the Dursleys.

When the taxi pulled up in front of the Charing Cross Underground, Harry had a moment of deja vu. He smiled ruefully at the sight of the station.

"I was just here yesterday, and since then I've blown up a town, convinced a professor that I'm crazy, had a couple near-death experiences, and generally have no clue what's going on. But hey, at least this is more fun than sitting around at the Dursleys', so I have that going for me, I guess."

Harry thanked the taxi driver, found his bearings, and then walked toward Diagon Alley. This time there was way more wizards - Harry counted at least fifty. Shit, Harry thought, if I still can't get in, I'll be in big trouble. When Harry's turn arrived, he steeled himself, stepped toward the bricks, and tapped on them in the same order as everyone else. With bated breath, he waited to see what would happen. After what seemed like an eternity, the bricks peeled back, revealing a large hole. Harry stepped through and entered a new world.

He stood there at the entrance to Diagon Alley for several minutes, just taking in the sights. This place was everything Harry dreamed of and even more - it was filled to the brim with wizards, chock full of strange magical buildings and creatures, and most of all there were SO MANY auras. Everywhere Harry looked there was a unique aura; he saw more colors and shades of color than he knew existed, yet interestingly enough still none of the auras matched his own in terms of its vibrancy and color.

Eventually Harry realized he'd been standing in the same place for five minutes with a stupid smile plastered across his face, and that people were staring at him. Shaking his head, Harry moved to the side of the road to let everyone else pass. He examined the store signs, and then decided that since he didn't understand anything he would visit them all. The first store Harry went in was an apothecary, whatever that meant. Inside Harry saw all kinds of weird ingredients - squid tentacles, frog liver, all sorts of creepy-crawlies, and who knows what else. He noticed the clientele at this shop were mostly adults, and they all seemed to know exactly what they were doing. Harry left in search of a store for people his age.

As he walked further into Diagon Alley, he noticed a bunch of kids a bit older than him duck into a clothing store called "Madam Malkin's". Harry followed them. Unlike the apothecary, this store was jam-packed. Harry didn't know there were so many kinds of robes in the world, and it seemed like these wizards took their fashion pretty seriously. He also noticed there were tons of parents here with their kids, not unlike the back-to-school sales Petunia and Dudley frequented. After wandering around some more, Harry noticed a blond-haired girl sitting in a stool being tended to by another woman. It looked like the woman was fitting clothes for the girl, and... was that tape dispenser moving around on its own? Harry watched in confusion as the tape dispenser started talking to the woman. Harry blinked to check if he was seeing things. He wasn't. Man, Harry thought, these people are weird.

Harry didn't know what to do, so he decided to listen in on their conversation.

"... So, Victoria, which house do you want to be sorted into?"

"Gryffindor!"

"Ah, Gryffindor. Always the most popular choice. I personally think that you'd do great in Hufflepuff."

"No, Hufflepuffs aren't cool. And they suck at Quiddi - ow! Stop poking me!"

"Sorry, dear. I'm almost done."

Gryffindor? Hufflepuff? What were these strange words? Harry shook his head, bemused. The more time he spent here, the more confusing everything became.

Harry left Madam Malkin's and continued walking around Diagon Alley. He passed several stores with mouth-watering ice cream, and several other stores with more questionable food Harry had never seen before. Up ahead Harry saw a commotion - people were swarming around someone. Harry craned his head for a better look. As he got closer, he could hear snippets of conversation.

"Arnold! Can I get your autograph?"

"Mr. Potter! How did you defeat the Dark Lord? Tell us your secrets!"

It took Harry a moment to understand who this was. Wait, Harry realized, that's my brother! Then Harry took a closer look at him as well as the people flanking him on both sides. They all had flaming red hair, and... they were the people that had made fun of and attacked him! What had Snape said Arnold's foster family was? The Weasleys? Gone was the admiration Harry had for his brother. It was replaced by anger and jealousy - what had Arnold done to deserve all this fame? What had Harry done to be damned as the Dursleys' virtual slave? It was so unfair. Harry then remembered he could scan people, so he decided to scan Arnold. He saw an average-looking blob of green. Nothing special at all. The Weasley's were uniform blobs of light red - nothing special either. As Arnold and the Weasleys came closer, Harry ducked out of the way to avoid making eye contact with any of them.

When he took a look at the shop he had stepped into, he noticed it was a bookstore. This was no ordinary bookstore. The ceilings were impossibly high, the shelves were stocked full of books, and most of all, the books moved! Harry could hear some of the books talking to each other, and even weirder, the pictures on the book covers were moving! They were waving and smiling at him, even though Harry obviously had never met them before. A nice-looking woman came over.

"Hi sweetie, find what you're looking for?"

"Actually, I was just wondering why the pictures are waving at me."

"Ah, you must be Muggle-born then?"

"You... You could say that."

"Nice! I always thought Muggle society was so cool. How much do you know about our world?"

Harry opened his mouth to reply and then stopped himself. He didn't want to give anything away.

"Basically nothing."

"Thats fine - you're in for a bunch of surprises. Here, let me get you some background information."


	9. Chapter 9

"So, the first thing you should know is that we don't get along with Muggles. Or more accurately, some of us don't. Personally I think it's a shame. Don't worry about it too much, but since you're Muggle-born, be careful out there."

Yeah, thought Harry, I've experienced that firsthand.

"How bad is it?"

The woman shifted uncomfortably and frowned.

"Well, you see it's complicated. There are different kinds of families - Pureblood, Halfblood; people from these families tend to to have different attitudes towards - you know what, why am I even telling you this? You're just a kid, for gods sake."

Harry made a mental note to figure out what Purebloods and Halfbloods were.

"Anyways, on to the fun stuff!"

The woman flicked her stick and made several books float down from various corners of the shop.

"Sorry, what is that thing called?"

The woman pointed at one of the books. "This?"

"No, that," said Harry pointing at the woman's stick.

"Oh, you mean my wand?" said the woman laughing.

"That's what it's called? Wand?"

"Yes, wands are key in letting wizards do magic. Without a wand magic becomes more difficult, so you'll definitely want one."

"Where do I get one?"

The woman smiled again.

"Honey, I think you're a bit too young. If you want, you could go to Ollivander's shop on 4th and Main to see if he'll sell you one, but I doubt it. Some of the secondhand shops might also have some, but those wands aren't good since you want a wand tailored just for you."

Harry made sure he remembered that name - "Ollivander's".

"Any other questions, dear?"

"Sorry, I'm good for now. What were you saying about the books?"

"Right, so these books were written especially for Muggle-borns to get acquainted with wizarding society. This one right here is a bit complicated, the other two are nice easy reads. Now, you probably won't understand every word, but it will make things much easier if you get the gist of what the books are saying."

"Yeah, I'm decent at reading. I'll take a look at them."

The woman beamed.

"Great! If you have any questions about anything, feel free to stop by and ask me or the staff here!"

Harry reached in his pockets to pay for the books and belatedly realized he didn't have any wizard money.

"Oh, there might be a problem. I don't have any wizard money. I only have Muggle bills, is that fine?"

"Oh I wasn't going to make you pay for them. You can have them for free - don't worry about it!"

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, thanked the woman one more time, and left the shop with books in tow. He emerged back onto the bustling street. Shaking his head, Harry still could not believe how crazy this place was. What had he planned to do next? Right, get one of those wand things. Off to Ollivander's then.

It took some time for Harry to find Ollivander's shop. Right away he noticed this shop wasn't like the other ones. To start, there weren't as many people around - it seemed to Harry that this place wasn't frequented too often. Then there was the shop's decor. It was old, almost out-of-place among the gleaming and garish styles of the rest of Diagon Alley. Add to this the fact that the blinds were almost all the way closed, and Harry was seriously considering leaving this place for later. But to hell with it, decided Harry. All the other wizards have wands, so if I want to be one I need a wand too. He took a deep breath and stepped in.

Immediately Harry was assaulted with the scent of wood. He realized the smell was coming from the walls, and when he looked up he saw boxes upon boxes of something. Harry looked around to see if anyone was watching, and then sneakily removed one of the boxes from the shelf. He peeled back the lid, and there it was! A beautiful wand, slightly curved, made of a dark-brownish wood. Dare he pick it up to see what would happen? Harry summoned his courage and grabbed the wand, raising it quickly into the air as he had seen some of the wizards do. Nothing happened. Disappointed, Harry tried another wand. This one didn't look as nice. It was short and stubby, weighed much more, and had a icky green-brown color. Again, nothing happened.

Harry was getting confused. Were the wands not working because he didn't know how to use magic, or because he wasn't a wizard? But he was a wizard, right? He had done that scanning thing to other wizards and if the auras were anything to go by, he was a very good wizard indeed. Wait, Harry thought, why don't I try to scan the wands? Maybe that will tell me what's going on here. He took a deep breath and focused on the first wand he had tried. Harry saw that the wand did in fact have an aura, except this aura was much smaller than any wizard's aura and was confined to the inside of the wand. The aura had a cylinder-like shape and was pearly white in color. Well, thought Harry, that just makes me more confused. I now know that wizards and wands have their own separate auras. So when a wizard uses his wand, which aura is he using? His own, or his wand's? Or both?

Harry examined the uglier wand to try to get more insight. After a few seconds, Harry saw an image that was similar but not identical to the other wand. This wand's aura was also small and confined to a cylindrical shape inside the wand, but instead of pearly white Harry saw dark red, almost the color of blood. He quickly decided he didn't like the color and dispelled the image from his mind. At an impasse, Harry started walking deeper into the store to see if there might be some other kinds of wands that could tell him more. Deep in the store it was basically pitch dark, so Harry kept on hand on the wall to maintain his balance. With his other hand Harry randomly picked wands to examine; so far it seemed all the wands followed the pattern of the first two.

A few minutes later Harry stumbled upon a wand that felt... different. The wand's aura wasn't anything special - maybe it was a bit on the brighter side, but not by much. But somehow it felt familiar, and the longer he held the aura in his mind the more familiar it got. Harry concentrated on the color more closely. It was a very peculiar shade of green, bright sickly green. Harry in an instant remembered the explosion at Godric's Hollow, and how it was caused by exactly that shade of bright green colliding with his aura. Harry yelled in alarm and pushed the box away from him, which caused the next few boxes to also tip over, leading to a cascade of wands all tumbling off the shelves and onto the floor.

"Oh shit, I'm sure someone heard that. I've got to get out of here!"

Harry froze when someone responded.

"I did indeed hear that, but don't worry, son. You're right to be careful of that wand."

Out of the darkness Harry saw an old man emerge, dressed in plain white robes.

"Welcome to my humble abode. My name is Ollivander. How many I help you today?"

Harry blinked.

"Um, I want to find a wand."

"Oh yes, of course! And it seems that you've already started looking!"

"Yeah, uh, sorry about that. I didn't see anyone, you know, so I... I started looking, as you said."

Ollivander smiled.

"Not to worry, not to worry, you've done nothing wrong. I am curious though, why did this particular wand scare you?" said Ollivander, holding up the offending wand.

Harry decided not to divulge too much.

"It felt strange. Like it did something wrong."

Ollivander raised his eyebrows.

"Like it did something wrong, you say? You are correct. This wand has a phoenix-feather core from a very special phoenix. You see, most phoenixes will only give one feather, but this phoenix gave two. One feather is inside this wand," said Ollivander, pointing, "while the other feather, the other feather resides in the wand that the Dark Lord used," said Ollivander, his voice falling to a hush.

Harry was barely able to stop his jaw from coming unhinged.

"Reaa... Really? The Dark Lord?"

Ollivander nodded solemnly.

"Yes, that is correct."

"But it is even more interesting that you were able to sense this. That means either you got lucky, or ... "

"Or what?" Harry was getting nervous.

"Or you are Arnold Potter."

Harry remembered what Snape had told him, about how Arnold Potter managed to kill the Dark Lord.

"Because Arnold Potter killed the Dark Lord, right?"

Ollivander seemed absorbed in thought.

"Yes, yes. But you can't be Arnold Potter because he came through here a couple hours ago and you look nothing like him. Who are you then? Nobody else could have the connection, because the Potters had no other children."

Harry let out a small sigh of relief. So Snape was right - people actually didn't know he existed. His thoughts were interrupted when Ollivander let out a shout.

"Ah hah! You must be able to see magical cores!"

"Sorry, Mr. Ollivander, I don't know what that means."

"Oh, you're Muggle-born too?"

Technically no, thought Harry, but to heck with that.

"Yes."

All of a sudden Ollivander seemed very excited.

"Wow! A Muggle-born aura reader! I don't think I've ever met someone like you. It's really nice to meet you! What's your name?"

Harry said the first thing that came to mind. "Harry. Harry... Dudley."

"Well, Mr. Dudley, let me explain some things. First, an aura-reader like yourself can see magical cores. People like you are exceedingly rare - not even Dumbledore can do it. I personally can't either, but from what I've read, aura-readers can see physical manifestations of magic, so for example different people's magic would look different. Does this sound familiar?"

Harry still didn't trust this weird guy, but he decided to go along with it.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I can do!"

"Very good. I think that somehow your aura-reading powers can sense the magic connecting You-Know-Who's wand to this one. That's the only explanation that makes sense. Oh yeah - and magical cores are just another name for aura. Every magic capable human or animal has a magical core, but like I said most people can't see them."

"Ok Mr. Ollivander, that's really cool. But can I get a wand now?"

Ollivander's smile grew even wider.

"Oh no, Mr. Dudley, I'm afraid that won't be possible."

"What?"

"Wand-making books clearly state that aura-readers can't use premade wands. You have to make your own."

"But I don't know how!"

"Not a problem. I think the Ministry forbids Muggle-borns from using magic except at school anyways, so you'll have no use for a wand until you go to Hogwarts."

"I want to know how though. Please?"

"I'm a busy man, Mr. Dudley. I already have an apprentice, I don't have the time for another one. How about this. I'll give you some wand-making books to look at. When the time comes and you need a wand for Hogwarts, come back. I might be able to help you more then."

"Can't you just give me a wand? Will it not work at all?"

"Well, it will work, but you won't be nearly as strong as your potential if you use pre-made wands."

"That's fine, I just want to have one."

"All right then. I'll give you this one for free as a gesture of good faith. Ashwood, ten and a half inches, dragon heartstring core."

"Thank you so much!"

"Oh yes, before I forget, here are the wand-making books." Ollivander waved his wand and a bunch of shabby old books appeared in Harry's arms.

"Anything else?"

"No, I don't think so. I will come back to see you, Mr. Ollivander, I promise!"

"Good, good. I hope to see you soon as well, Mr. Dudley."


	10. Chapter 10

It was getting late and Harry wanted something to eat. His earlier luck had run out - none of the shops were willing to give him anything for free, and none of them accepted Muggle money either. He was also getting tired from lugging around his new books. After stopping several times to rest, Harry arrived at the end of the Diagon Alley entrance road. Here it split into two, and between the two forks was the largest building in Diagon Alley Harry had seen. He stopped to admire the obviously gold-plated furnishings and wondered what sort of wizards were this rich. Harry squinted to make out the name of the building. It was a word he'd never seen before, Gringotts. Harry decided to ask someone what this place was.

"Sir, what is that?"

"Gringotts? The premier wizarding bank, of course."

A bank could be useful, thought Harry. There was the obvious problem that he didn't have any wizarding money, but still, Harry hoped, he might be able to finagle his away into some.

The inside of the bank was even more opulent than the outside. The ceiling was at least several stories high, with marble statues and precious gems everywhere Harry looked. He was even more interested in the bank tellers. They were short, stout, and had pointed ears and crooked noses. It was obvious they weren't human, so Harry hoped they still spoke English. Fortunately they did.

"Excuse me?" asked Harry to one of the bank tellers.

"Yes? How may I be of service today?"

When Harry didn't respond for a while, the creature gave him a wicked smile, showing his crooked teeth.

"I'm guessing you've never seen a goblin before, aye?"

"Oh yes, I was just thinking about what I want to do" responded Harry nervously.

"No matter, let's start with the easy stuff first. Name?"

Harry decided to use the same name that he had told Ollivander.

"Harry Dudley."

"Let's see, let's see, you must be new. No mention of you in our records. Would you like to open an account?"

"Uh, yeah. I want to open an account."

The goblin smiled his toothy smile again.

"Excellent. Gringotts always welcomes new customers. Let's start the paperwork."

The goblin made Harry sign a bunch of forms. Some of them were simple, just needing his name, but others required some of Harry's blood. Luckily the process was painless, but Harry had no clue what any of the forms were for. After the forms were signed, the golbin pulled out one final document.

"You are Muggle-born?"

"Yes."

"The Ministry of Magic has set up a small fund specifically for Muggleborns. Twenty-five galleons will be inserted into your account."

"What's a galleon?"

"Ah, let me explain better. English wizards have three types of coins: Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts. Galleons are worth more than Sickles, which are worth more than Knuts. For comparison, a few Sickles is enough to get you a meal at a nice restaurant."

At the mention of currency, Harry remembered the several hundred pounds sitting in his pocket.

"Wait, can I use Muggle money?"

"Unfortunately, no. You can't convert Muggle money to wizarding money. If you could, all the Muggle-borns would be rich!"

Well that sucks, thought Harry. Now all I have is the twenty-five gallons? Galleons? What did he call it?

"Ahem."

"Oh, sorry. I was just thinking about some stuff."

"No worries, Mr. Dudley. Would you like the Galleons now or in your account?"

"Now."

"Alright, here is your money."

The goblin slid over a pile of large, golden coins.

"Twenty-five galleons. Use them wisely."

Harry pocketed the money and thanked the goblin. He took a last look at the luxurious bank and then left the building.

After getting a bite to eat, Harry found a bench to sit down. Wizard food was great - the fish and chips were way better than Petunia's version, and the drinks whizzed, popped, and had different flavors while you were drinking them! Magic was awesome. He really was getting tired though. Harry wished he knew how to levitate his bag of books, because he probably couldn't carry them around much longer.

Even at this time of day Diagon Alley was busy. There were still groups of people walking around, and the night sky made the magical lights glow even brighter. Should he sleep outside again tonight? Probably not, he thought, considering how defenseless he would be. Did wizards have hotels? Harry knew Muggle hotels were expensive from Vernon's temper tantrums, so maybe something else? Eventually Harry gave up looking and asked someone.

"Sir, where can I find a place to stay tonight?"

"Lost your parents? The Leaky Cauldron is your best bet, I think. It's also close to the entrance of Diagon Alley, so your parents will have an easier time finding you."

With this advice in mind, Harry headed off in search of the Leaky Cauldron.

It took Harry quite a while to find the place. The Leaky Cauldron looked like a rickety old shop from the outside, so Harry had serious doubts about going in. However, his arms were basically limp noodles at this point, and he didn't think he could heft the books around any longer. Using the last bit of his strength to sling his bags through the door, Harry stumbled across the threshold. He lost his balance and tripped, landing face-first on the floor. The man at the counter jumped up in alarm, raced to the door, and helped Harry back to his feet.

"I'm so sorry, we just cleaned the floor. My name is Tom, welcome to the Leaky Cauldron! I don't believe we've ever met, you are?"

"Harry. Harry Dudley."

"Well, Mr. Dudley. Are you looking for accommodations this fine evening? You seem a tad young to be wandering around on your own."

"Uh, what does that mean?"

"Accommodations? It means somewhere to stay. Mind you, I don't have many rooms left, but there are a few smaller ones on the top floor you could have."

"That would be great! How much does the room cost?"

"3 sickles per night."

"What if - what if I want to stay more than 1 night?"

At this, Tom gave him an odd look.

"Won't your parents be worried? I know that you're probably a smart lad who can look after himself, but still..."

Shoot, he's on to me! thought Harry. He was too tired to think straight, so he blurted the first thing that came to mind.

"My parents are dead."

Everyone in the room went silent and stared at Harry.

Well, technically I'm not lying, thought Harry ruefully.

"Dea - Dead? My dear boy, what happened?"

"Oh, they've been dead for a while. But I only just found out."

Tom gave him a hug.

"Well, Harry, clearly you've been through a lot. Don't worry about the room. You can have it for free tonight, we'll work something out tomorrow."

Someone else in the room stood up.

"Now wait just a second, he could be lying."

The guy was wearing red robes which several badges attached to them.

"Ah, Auror Davies, its fine. He's just a boy."

"No, Tom, I insist. I don't want these street scum scamming you out of your hard earned money."

Tom looked guiltily at Harry.

"Sorry, Harry. Davies here works for the Ministry. We have to listen to what he says."

Tom stepped away while Davies moved closer.

"Now, boy, this will only take a second. I'm going to give you something to drink and then ask you some questions."

Davies took a cup of ginger ale off the counter and added a few drops of mysterious liquid to it. He handed the mixture to Harry.

"Drink, boy."

Someone came and snatched the cup from Harry's hand.

"Are you out of your mind? Using Veritaserum on a boy? Even if he is lying, three drops of Veritaserum costs more than his room ever would!"

"Rogers! I'm in charge here, not you."

"You aren't listening. The Auror department is already short on Veritaserum as it is. Don't waste it on something this silly."

Harry listened intently to the argument. The other Auror had said 'even if he is lying'. Did that mean that the Auror's drink was a lie detector? Harry hadn't told any lies yet, but if they asked who his parents were, Harry would be forced to lie, which would then get him in trouble. Best not to risk it.

Luckily it seemed like Rogers was winning the argument. Harry watched as Davies quickly pocketed his mystery liquid and stormed out the door, followed by Rogers.

Tom shook his head quizzically.

"Sometimes I don't understand people. Aurors never used to be like that back in the day. Don't tell anyone this, but once You-Know-Who was defeated, the Ministry has been so uptight about everything. Ah, I shouldn't say that. They know what they're doing. What was I going to say? Right, your room. Follow me."

Tom picked up Harry's stuff and went upstairs.

When Tom reached the room, he pulled out a keychain with three keys on it.

"Three keys. The first one is an ordinary Muggle key. Push it in, turn, voila. The second one is enchanted to this particular room. Push the key in, wait for the light, open. The third one is enchanted to you."

Harry watched as Tom muttered something while pointing his wand at him and the door.

"Good, now only you can use the third key. Here, try it."

Harry pushed the third key into its slot. He felt a brief warmth, and then the heavy wooden door swung open.

The room was nicer than Harry could ever have hoped. It was at least as big Dudley's bedroom at the Dursleys, if not bigger. There was a comfortable looking bed, a dresser, a table, as well as a walk-in closet.

"Wow, this is great! Thank you so much!"

"Not a problem, my boy. Rest up now, we can talk more tomorrow. If you need anything, just yell into the fireplace. There's always someone in the kitchen, so if you're ever hungry or thirsty go down there and we'll whip something up. Any questions?"

"Nope."

"Good night then, Harry."

Tom closed the door behind him. Harry threw his stuff into the drawer, hopped into bed, and fell asleep.

He was awoken by a loud knocking on his door. Harry could make out Tom's muffled voice: "Breakfast downstairs!"

Harry quickly made himself presentable and then headed downstairs. He emerged into a full house of people. Every table was packed, people were bustling around, and more noticeably all kinds of magic was going on. Not wanting to cause any trouble, he squeezed in next to a couple normal-looking wizards. They turned to acknowledge him.

"Morning kid. Didn't know Tom employed child labor these days."

The other wizard guffawed.

From the counter, Tom piped up.

"Oi! I heard that!"

"With your old ears? Color me surprised."

Tom ambled over to their table.

"Nice to see you two again. It's been a while - how'd the hunt go? Oh and Harry, meet Frank and Eddie, bounty hunters extraordinaire," said Tom, lowering his voice.

"We found the guy. Let's just say he's been... neutralized."

Harry's eyes widened.

Seeing this, Eddie chuckled.

"Don't worry, kid. We didn't kill him, but he won't be threatening anyone any time soon. Enough about us though. Where did you some from? You're the youngest kid I've seen here this early in the morning."

Harry told him how recently he had found out about his parents' deaths, and how Tom was kind of enough to take him in. When he finished, both bounty hunters were shaking their heads.

"Damn kid, that sucks. Keep your head up. You'll be fine, and you still got your whole life ahead of you."

Harry felt a bit guilty, since he actually didn't feel too bad at all. But he went along with it anyways.

"Yeah, I bet my parents would have said the same thing."

"That's the spirit."

Tom spoke up again.

"Say, Ed, just thought of something. What do you suggest young Harry here do? He could go back to his parents' place, but understandably he might not want to. I'm not sure I can set up a permanent place here, and whats more I don't think that's legal.

"Yeah, you're right. Since you don't have guardianship of him, you can't put him anywhere permanently. And even if you did have guardianship, you'd have to do all sorts of parenting things, which frankly you're probably too busy for."

Ed scratched his chin in thought.

"How old are you, Harry?"

"Eight, but I'll be nine soon."

"I think Harry here is old enough to start an apprenticeship. That would solve his living situation, as well as giving him something to do during the day. Once he's old enough for Hogwarts or some other school, just send him there."

"I like that plan. Harry, what do you think? I know a lot of the regulars at my inn, I'll ask around for any opportunities."

"That sounds great! Is there anything I need to do?"

"I don't think so. You just rest up and eat a lot. You're pretty skinny for your age, and I don't want you getting sick on me."

Harry thought he was dreaming. Someone telling him to rest up and eat a lot? Vernon would never in a thousand years say that.

"All right then, thanks again for everything. After I eat I'll be in my room if you need me."

With that, Harry tucked into his meal. It was delicious. Harry had never eaten a full English before, but every Sunday Petunia would make one for Vernon, so Harry knew what it looked like. Bacon, eggs, tomatoes, beans, black pudding, toast, and coffee - everything was great. Harry couldn't finish all of it, but he did his best and ate until he was bursting. As he was about to go back to his room, he caught sight of the newspaper stand. Curious, he took one, looked at the front page, and saw the headline "Godric's Hollow still unsolved: Criminal at large!".

"Sad, isn't it?"

Harry swung around and came face to face with another red-robed Auror. He tried to remain as nonchalant as possible, praying that nothing would happen.

"Yeah, it is. I hope when I grow up I can stop these sorts of things from happening."

The Auror smiled.

"Good on you, kid. I can already see you'll be a great wizard one day. Whats your name?"

"Harry."

"Nice to meet you, Harry. I'm Vincent, and I work as a detective for the Auror department at the Ministry. We're patrolling Diagon Alley in hopes that whoever did that," said Vincent, pointing at the newspaper, "will show up. You haven't seen anything suspicious, have you?"

"No, everything's been normal."

"All right. You seem like a smart kid, so if you see anything let an Auror know."

"Yeah, I'll do that."

Satisfied, the Auror strode off and went to question someone else. Harry took a few minutes to collect himself. That was too close, he thought. With the incident last night and now this, it seemed that Aurors were all over the place. Better lay low until this settles down, Harry decided. Trying not to attract any more attention, Harry weaved through the tables and made his way back upstairs.

Ensconced safely in his room, Harry finally had a chance to take a look at his books. The first one was entitled "A Complete History of Wizarding England". It was a very thick book, and when Harry opened it up to several random pages he saw there were no pictures at all, only words. Well, he thought, this is going to be harder than I expected. The other two books were skinnier, and were more along the lines of what Dudley had in his room. Both books were by the same author. The first one of these was an illustrated dictionary of various items unique to the wizarding world, for example the moving pictures Harry had seen. Harry flipped through the book - it seemed interesting and he would take a closer look later. The last book was also an illustrated dictionary, except of spells instead of objects. Harry was skimming through the book when he remembered Ollivander had given him a wand - he could actually try the spells himself!

Barely able to contain his excitement, Harry took out the wand and gripped it tightly. He flipped back to the first page in the book. The spell on that page was "Lumos", and apparently it was supposed to make light come out of the wand. The book didn't give any instructions about how to cast the spell, so Harry was on his own. He cleared his throat. Pointing his wand at the ceiling, Harry yelled "Lumos!"

He waited a few seconds, and when nothing happened, he tried again.

"Lumos!"

Again, nothing.

"Maybe I'm saying it wrong, how about lu-MOS!"

Harry tried every pronunciation of 'lumos' that he could think of, and still no light came out of his wand. Frustrated, Harry flopped onto the bed and closed his eyes.

Why isn't this working? he thought. I should be able to do such a simple spell.

After wallowing some more, Harry had a flash of insight. Ollivander told me that I could see magic. Maybe I can see the magic that makes the light and figure out why it isn't working! Then Harry remembered that the Godric's Hollow disaster happened the first time he saw his aura, so he ought to avoid doing it. But that doesn't make sense, he thought. If it was my aura that caused the explosion, how come it only happened that one time? How come I haven't blown up Diagon Alley yet? How am I even still alive? No, he decided, it must have been that other green light that made it happen. So... it's not really my fault then!

This thought gave Harry some relief. Moving back to the task at hand, Harry concentrated on his own aura. After a few seconds, he once again saw the amorphous, dark green shape. Now came the tricky part. Harry had never tried to do something else while seeing auras at the same time, so this was going to be hard. He tried to maintain focus on his aura while saying "lumos!" at the same time, but when he did this, he could never finish the word before his aura faded away. Harry concentrated as hard as he could, but he still couldn't do it. There was some hope though - at least Harry could practice his concentration, he could get better at it. But for now, Harry resigned himself to not being able to use his wand.

Or, perhaps, it might be that the wand simply didn't fit him. Ollivander had said that he needed to make his own wand, but that was way beyond his current abilities.

Harry was at a loss of what to do. He could try the concentration exercise again, but his brain still hurt from the earlier attempt. Truthfully, Harry was itching to explore more of Diagon Alley, but Tom had told him to rest up, and Harry knew his adventures in the wizarding world were the opposite of rest. There was only one thing to do then. Harry reopened the thick magical history book to the first page and started reading.


End file.
